


The Shadows of Our Feelings

by MizJoely



Series: Khanolly [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Omegaverse, dubcon, for the usual omegaverse reasons, khanolly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:10:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He clenches his fists, fighting for control as he breathes in the scent of the lovely Omega lying sprawled across his bed like the gift she is meant to be. No, he reminds himself, feeling the anger roiling beneath the spiking lust her scent has awakened, not a gift. A bribe, a means of control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That Which Doesn't Kill Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AllTheBellsInVenice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheBellsInVenice/gifts).



> Many thanks to allthebellsinvenice for betaing for me even while deep in the throes of nesting. You rock!

_Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings - always darker, emptier and simpler.  
Friedrich Nietzsche_

 

He’s seen her before, the woman lying unconscious on his bed. Usually in the company of others wearing Starfleet medical blue, but a few times in a somber grey dress uniform, trailing along with other members of Admiral Marcus’ entourage. Never close enough for him to get her scent, but always something about her captured his attention. She’s pretty enough, with her classic English rose complexion, big brown eyes and chestnut hair pulled back into neat braids or pony-tails; her figure is attractive but nothing about her individual parts is enough to warrant the way his eyes are drawn to her again and again, lingering over her like a puzzle that needs solving.

Now, however, he understands. Lieutenant Molly Hooper, xenopathologist, is far more than the sum of her parts.

She’s an Omega.

He clenches his fists, fighting for control as he breathes in the scent of the lovely Omega lying sprawled across his bed like the gift she is meant to be. No, he reminds himself, feeling the anger roiling beneath the spiking lust her scent has awakened, not a gift. A bribe, a means of control. When he warned Marcus that his Alpha nature would need to be chemically suppressed lest it spin out of control, the Admiral had promised to have his tame scientists come up with something that would work on his Augmented physiology. Something that would help him keep his baser urges under control, keep him from spiking into a full Alpha rut.

Marcus lied, and for that he will pay, but for now, there is the woman on his bed, finally showing signs of returning consciousness.

“Lieutenant Hooper,” he rumbles, and she opens her eyes, gazing blearily up at him. He scents the moment she realizes she isn’t in a room she recognizes, a bare second before her eyes widen in alarm and she scrambles to her knees, still too woozy from whatever cocktail of drugs Marcus had administered to her to make it to her feet.

“C-commander Harrison,” she stutters, one hand going automatically to her head, the other continuing to support her half-crouching form, her blue uniform skirt riding up her thighs. He forces himself to focus on her face and not the delicious expanse of soft, pink flesh thus exposed. “Where…what…how did I get here?” Her eyes dart around in confusion before returning to him. “Where are we?”

“My private quarters. We’ve been locked in. What do you remember?” he asks, fingernails sinking deep into the palms of his hands. He feels a sweat breaking out, and knows this moment of control won’t last long.

Her brow furrows in confusion. “Locked in? What do you mean, locked in?”

“I mean,” he says as he reaches back to grip the door handle tightly enough to warp the metal, “that we have been locked. _In._ ” He rattles the door for emphasis. “The computer has been disabled to both voice and manual commands. I can’t leave, and neither can you. Now. Answer my question; what’s the last thing you remember before waking up here?”

She responds as he knows she must, instincts long dormant awakening to the command in an Alpha’s voice; her back straightens and she clasps her hands together at her waist, her gaze drifting ceilingward as she forces her scattered wits to collect. “I was…the Admiral called me to his office, he needed me to do something,” she answers after a moment’s struggle. She nods and her brow unfurls as she begins to remember. “He said it was urgent, that there was an assignment only I could handle. But when I asked him what it was…” She shakes her head. “I think I remember stumbling, almost falling, and I think he…no, someone else…someone caught me. And then I woke up here.”

She shows no signs of fear, not of him or of Marcus, even though both are threats to her in very different ways. He finds that lack of fear refreshing, intoxicating, but continues to hold himself rigidly under control, although he knows it is only a matter of time before his Alpha nature overtakes him. Overtakes them both. “He drugged you,” Khan says, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Sedated you, had you brought here without our consent or knowledge, and then ordered me here to ‘rest’.” 

She continues to stare at him, confusion still clear on her features and clouding the crisp, sweet scent permeating this room. His bedroom. He closes his eyes briefly and shakes his head, then snaps them open and pins her with his gaze. “Have you heard of Alphas and Omegas, Lieutenant Hooper?”

Her brow furrows again, and he feels a stirring of anger at the sight. No Omega should be so troubled – even one who is unaware of her true nature. He sees the signs, though, that his own hormonal imbalance is beginning to affect her: the sweat on her brow, the redness of her cheeks, the restlessness of her hands as she fiddles with the edges of her uniform skirt. “It’s…humans used to be made up of three distinct sub-types, but that was hundreds of years ago. We’re all just human beings now.” Something in his face must give him away, because that wrinkled brow returns for a third time. “Aren’t we?”

No, he tells her. And watches carefully as her eyes grow wider and wider with every word. As he explains that humanity may have bred out many of the defining characteristics of Alphas and Omegas – leaving the more even-tempered Betas the dominant form – but that the genes are latent in all humans. That such dormant characteristics can be awakened – and become dominant.

“Awakened how?” she asks quietly, and he sees that she is beginning to become aware of the precariousness of her situation. Still she shows no fear, and his admiration for her increases, even as she shudders at the onset of what will no doubt be her first true Omega heat. 

“Do you know who I am?” he asks, because it finally occurs to him that she is taking all of this a little too well. It might be in the nature of an Omega to be submissive in the presence of a powerful Alpha – which he, ego aside, absolutely is – but he would have expected more fear, more protests, some sense of conflict in her heart, a change in her scent. At the very least she should be questioning her physical symptoms, and yet she isn’t. 

“Commander John Harrison,” she replies quickly, and his eyes narrow as her gaze shifts. Not much, just the smallest bit, but that combined with a spike in her scent screams of a lie.

He moves before he realizes, kneeling on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to grasp her face and hold her immobile as he stares into her wide brown eyes. “You know who I am,” he rumbles, not a question this time but a statement of fact. His cock stirs painfully in his trousers, but he ignores it. He must discover the truth about Lieutenant Hooper before anything else can occur. “Tell me my name, Lieutenant. And tell me how long you’ve known it.”

“K-khan,” she breathes. Her heart is beating fast, her breathing is unsteady, but unbelievably there is still very little fear in either her expression or her scent. If he were not holding her face so firmly, he suspects she would be tilting her head and offering up her throat to him. “Khan Noonien Singh, the last Earth imperialist. Believed dead for over three hundred years. I-I’ve known who you are for about a week, I guess. There was something about Admiral Marcus, the way he treats you, that just didn’t add up so I went data-diving. He underestimated my computer skills,” she adds proudly, and Khan feels his admiration for her increasing.

She looks at him defiantly, as if expecting to be attacked now that she has admitted her knowledge of a secret that only he and Marcus are supposed to be privy to. Khan’s lips curl in a savage smile, and he releases his hold on her, although with a great deal of reluctance. “Yes,” he agrees. “He did.” He takes a deep, ragged, breath, hearing the blood thundering in his veins, and knows that his momentary clarity is about to vanish. “Do you understand why Marcus had you brought to me?”

“Because you’re an Alpha,” she says, speaking the word as if it were foreign to her tongue in spite of her admission that she knows his true identity. “And if I’m an Omega, Admiral Marcus…he must have not given you any suppressants, instead he decided to, to use me.” Her face flushes and a her scent grows sour with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “He’s using me to try and control you, isn’t he?” she asks. 

Khan blinks at her in surprise, feeling yet another surge of admiration – and a further increase in the amount of blood rushing to his cock. If he must endure the mindlessness of an Alpha rut, at least Marcus chose for him a superior Omega, however accidentally, on which to ease his rapidly-escalating lust.

“He is,” he rasps, lips curling in a dark smile as he brings both hands up to her face, tracing the lines of her jaw with the tips of his fingers and enjoying the dark curl of desire that flickers in her eyes. It might only be the irresistible tug of biology, but he can hope for nothing better in this bleak future world he’s been forced to endure. “I imagine he’d hoped I would fall prey to my Alpha nature and simply take you without speaking to you first, without giving you the opportunity to understand what was happening. And now that you do know…”

“It’s just biology,” she whispers, lowering her eyes. “You just want me because of what I am. But none of this is your fault, I won’t scream rape when it’s over – at least,” she adds, eyes flashing, “not about you.”

“It’s not just biology,” he corrects her. “Yes, I’m an Alpha and you’re an Omega and all I want right now is to fuck you until you scream my name, give you my Knot and bring you pleasure like you’ve never felt before – but that’s not all there is to this. I give my word.”

There is a hint of trepidation in her gaze and her scent, but her hands have moved to rest on his chest, and she shudders a bit, wincing and curling in on herself – typical Omega cramps signifying her body’s readiness for fertilization, her reproductive system being forced into action because of his pheromones. “O-okay,” she says, still sounding very uncertain. But her fingers have curled into his uniform shirt and she’s swayed closer to him, tilting her head and leaving her mouth half open, an irresistible invitation to any Alpha.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a wolfish grin as he leans forward to nuzzle her throat, inhaling deeply as his fingers stroke down her arms, then back up again. “I promise you’ll love every minute of it.”


	2. Only Makes Us Stronger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Omegaverse smexy times. Also, all the chapter titles (and there will be more chapters after this one!) will continue to be quotes from Nietzsche. How did I not realize how perfect Nietzsche and Khanolly go together before now? Thanks to allthebellsinbenice for her expert betaing skills, and to everyone for reading, following, and commenting!

He’s nearly forgotten the way an in-heat Omega smells, the needy sounds they make, the blazing heat radiating from their bodies. Oh, he knows the technical term is estrus; boring, nowhere near descriptive enough, too dry and academic for situations like this. 

“Oh, Khan,” Molly moans, the symptoms she’s been exhibiting finally too much for her to ignore, “I’m burning up, from the inside out, I need…I need…” Her voice trails off, and Khan willingly finishes her sentence for her.

“Me,” he says, his voice a low, seductive rumble. “You need me. Just as much as I need you.” He feels the shiver that runs through her body as he continues to lick and nip at her throat. She moans again, a soft, keening noise that raises the hairs on the back of his neck and sends another jolt of pure, animal lust to his cock. His hands have drifted of their own accord down her body and are currently kneading her breasts through the coarse fabric of her uniform; she’s straddling his lap, her damp core grinding into his straining cock, and he captures her mouth in a brutal, possessive kiss as his higher reasoning functions are finally overloaded.

The mental haze that clouds his mind comes and goes in flashes; he has no memory of ripping her uniform from her body, but the shredded bits of fabric tell the story. Her hands are hot on his as she yanks his shirt over his head, and he feels her kissing his throat, his shoulders, his ear as he slips her off his lap – so very reluctantly! – and leans over to tug at his boots. 

When her hot little mouth lands on his hip he gasps aloud; when it moves over his buttocks he growls and mangles the study synthetic leather before ripping the second boot off and flinging it across the room. He barely registers the sound of it hitting the wall, too engrossed in removing his trousers and pants so he can turn and pull Molly’s panting form against his for another searing kiss. Her tongue is as heated as the rest of her body, aggressively twining against his as she tugs at his hair and writhes beneath him. 

An Omega on her back is a temptation, one he’s never indulged, but for her first time it has to be the traditional position, he can’t fight his instincts enough to do it any other way. Ah, but the next time…His thoughts cloud again as the heady scent of her sex fills his nostrils; she’s spread her legs and is practically begging to be tasted, and he happily indulges her. She gives out a sharp whine as he lowers his head between her legs, her fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer so that his face is buried in her cunt, his tongue fucking her while she rocks against him. Her legs are over his shoulders, her heels digging into his back as she reaches her first climax, practically howling her release as it shudders through her body. 

As soon as she recovers he pulls her up and lets her taste herself on his lips. She reaches down and grasps his erection, gliding her hands over it and making greedy noises against his mouth. He flips her around expertly so that she lands on her hands and knees before she’s even aware of what he’s doing; she looks over her shoulder at him, smiling darkly as he rests his hands on her hips. “Tell you want me,” he growls, sliding his cock between her moisture-slicked thighs.

“Want you,” she gasps out, attempting to open her legs wider. He growls a warning and leans over her body, nipping at her neck and thrusting his hips sharply. “Please, Khan, please…”

He pulls his cock free, pleased that she leaves her legs together as he positions himself and begins the slow process of pressing his cock into her slick little cunt. It’s a tight fit, made tighter by the closeness of her legs, but he wants to feel her against every centimeter of himself, and wants her to feel him filling her in a way he’s certain no non-Alpha ever could.

As her muscles grip him he gives a sigh of purest pleasure; it’s been far too long since he’s allowed himself the respite of sinking into an Omega’s juicy cunt, even before his self-imposed exile from a war-torn Earth. He pushes into her completely, still leaning over her prone form, hearing her panting breaths as he rests his chin on her shoulder. The scent from her neck mingles with the scent of her sex, as bewitching as anything he’s ever smelled in his life. His mouth opens, his teeth grazing her neck as she bucks her hips against him.

That small movement breaks the spell; he shudders and holds her tightly to him as he moves against her, sliding his cock in and out of her delicious heat in increasingly sharp movements. He allows her to widen her stance a bit in order for her to enjoy the growing friction, and knows she’s building towards another climax. 

He moves one hand, sliding it up her abdomen and cupping her breasts, feeling them bounce with the force of their joined movements. Her nipples are hard and hot against his palm and fingers, and he pinches one, exulting in her shuddering moan. He presses his nose against the sweet spot on her throat, where her scent is richest, cursing internally as he feels the urge to bite her, to draw blood, to mark her and Bond with her.

_No._ He can’t do it, won’t allow himself to do it; they barely know anything about one another, and if he could manage to resist the urge back when he was ruler of a quarter of the world, he can damn well resist it now. 

Molly, however, isn’t making it easy for him; she’s moving against him so wantonly, making such sweet mewling sounds, and her mouth, when he captures it in a sloppy kiss, is hot and mobile beneath his lips. He squeezes one breast and she moans; he slams into her and she writhes and moans even louder; he nips at her throat and she arches her neck and gasps out his name. All reason leaves him when he feels her clenching around him, squeezing his cock as she orgasms for a second time. His Knot is rising, the glands at the base of his cock swelling in response to the hormonal changes in both their bodies. His thrusts become shallow, slower, until finally with one powerful surge he punches his Knot deep inside her.

She wails and scrabbles at the sheets, her head resting on the crumpled-up blankets, tears flowing from her eyes, but there is no pain in either her scent or her expression, only pure, unmitigated bliss as her third orgasm rolls over her, hard on the heels of her second.

He sees stars, sparkles, metallic blooms that block his vision for a moment; when he can see again, he eases the two of them onto their sides, his body curled protectively around hers. He presses soft kisses to her neck as she wiggles into a more comfortable position; her unintentionally erotic movements trigger the first of his secondary orgasms, forcing a groan from his lips as his seed spills into her once again. She shudders as that in turns sets off another orgasm for her, and as they float in the warmth of the afterglow, he knows, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that very soon he will Bond with this woman; the pull of biology is too strong, the attraction he felt for her even before all this undeniable. 

He knows he should explain it to her first, give her the chance to understand what he plans to do, and why – not only out of selfish need, but to give the Admiral a reason to keep her alive when it’s obvious he plans to kill her as soon as her heat subsides – but decides to wait until their first joining is complete. He rides out the rest of their enforced physical proximity in near silence, only murmuring answers to her occasional questions about Alpha and Omega biology. If she knows he’s holding something back, she says nothing.

Once his Knot subsides and they are able to part, he sends her to his ’fresher to shower and relieve herself. He grabs several bottles of water and juice from his cooler in the small kitchen area, and puts together a platter of finger foods for the two of them to share. Feeding her is almost a compulsion, especially knowing that the Bonding ritual will take a great deal out of her, both literally and emotionally.

After they’ve eaten and drunk their fill, he pulls her back into his arms and settles onto the bed with her. She nestles trustingly against him, and although that triggers a very powerful protective instinct in him – he’s already begun thinking of her as his mate – he pushes the feelings down as deep as he can. Right now he needs to exert that famous control of his, to keep the next wave of rutting and Knotting at bay until he can explain what he’s going to do to her – and why.


	3. The Madness In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for biting and blood and smexy stuff. :)

They’ve finished eating and downed two bottles of water apiece before he speaks to her of his plans. He keeps his voice cold and logical, giving her no chance to protest or question his decision. An Omega from his own time would meekly bow to his commands, but Molly Hooper is from a different time, and he expects her to argue with him, to fight him, to try and deny what he knows, bone-deep, is best for the two of them. After all, what modern 24th century Starfleet officer wants her lover to bite her on the neck hard enough to draw blood, to tear into her flesh like some base animal?

The protests come as expected, immediately and vehemently. “What? Lifebonding? No, that’s not – we barely know each other, I can’t be tied to you for the rest of my life! What about my career, my own plans for my future? And what about Admiral Marcus?” she demands hotly. “If he thinks he can just get away with this…”

“Your career and any other plans for the future were stripped from you the moment Marcus decided to use you to control me. I have no doubt that he has his own plans for dealing with you.” Khan speaks coldly, dispassionately, showing no signs that such plans will _never_ be allowed to come to pass. It is the wrong reaction; Molly pales and shrinks away from him and belatedly he realizes that she takes his anger for Marcus as indifference toward herself. How she could think such a thing after the powerful joining of their bodies is mystery to him, until he further realizes that she hasn’t learned to read his scent the way he can hers. “I won’t let him hurt you,” he says, softening his tone, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “If I tell him we’ve bonded, he’ll have what he would consider another bargaining chip to use against me. It would save your life.”

He’s sure of that statement, no equivocation needed, no qualifiers; he’s as certain of Marcus’ intentions toward Molly as he is of his love for his crew, his family – and Molly is part of that family now, whether she knows it or not. He’s also sure that she’ll be pregnant with his child (or children, since strong Alpha/Omega pairings such as theirs often lead to multiple births) before the end of their time together. He doesn’t mention that possibility – likelihood – to her, not yet. She needs time to process his reasoning, although that time is finite, limited not only by outside forces (Marcus, damn his eyes) but by the ticking clock of her heat cycle. They have at most another hour before she spikes again, before clarity abandons them both in favor of need and want, fucking and Knotting, the sweet siren call of biology.

She falls silent and he waits patiently for her to mull the possibilities he’s both stated and hinted at. When she speaks, she sounds smaller, a bit lost, and he wants to pull her into his arms and promise her he’ll never let any harm come to her. But that’s his Alpha nature speaking, not the cold, hard pragmatist he knows he has to be right now. “You’re saying that Admiral Marcus had no intention of letting me leave here alive, unless it’s because I can be used against you.”

He nods, because that is exactly what he believes. If he refuses to Bond with her, tries to fight his instincts and long-denied needs, Marcus would likely see it as a sign that Molly is expendable, and dispose of her accordingly. But before he can explain that part to her, she surprises him by nodding reluctantly. With a forceful expulsion of breath, she leans her elbows on her knees and presses her hands against the sides of her head, lowering her face so it’s hidden from his view. “In that case, I don’t really have a choice.” She gives a bitter laugh and hunches into herself, a protective, particularly vulnerable, stance. “So yes, Khan, go ahead and bite me, mark me as yours. Not because I’ve magically fallen in love with you,” she adds, lifting her head and giving him a fierce glare. “But because I don’t want to die. This is just…it’s just biology. Something we can’t control, especially since Marcus is giving us no choice.”

Interesting; she’s stopped using the Admiral’s rank, and the stench of her anger and despair is rolling off her body in waves impossible for her Alpha – which Khan most emphatically is, Mark or no Mark – to ignore. He gathers her into his arms the way he’s been resisting doing ever since they began speaking. She makes no protests, simply curls up on his lap and lets him hold her. However, her scent immediately eases and he knows she feels safe with him, as she should, and that’s another sign that their bonding will be a successful one. It’s not mere biology, this thing between them, and she needs to understand that. Of course, once they bond it’ll be immediately clear; all doubts will be purged in the ancient ritual of blood and saliva and sex, but he finds that he wants to reassure her before then. To _make_ her believe that what they have, what they share, is special. There might be madness in love, but there is always some reason in madness, he’d once heard someone say; never before had he truly understood the words the way he did now.

All he does for the moment is nuzzle his face against her neck, breathing in her scent, smelling the difference as her tension and anger starts to dissipate. Then he feels her hands on his chest, hesitant, sliding up until they come to rest on his shoulders, and he closes his eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. “It’s not just biology,” he says, his voice low and soothing but with a bit of a growl behind it. “Don’t ever believe that, Molly.”

She looks up at him, her brown eyes so big and serious, his own reflection a barely-seen shadow on the lenses. He’s ruined her life, the plans she had, the career and possible future marriage and children she wanted with a safe, boring human, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when she means so much to him already. “Why not?” she asks, her voice small and shaking the slightest bit. Her scent has the hint of rain to it that he associates with oncoming tears, and he’s determined to either minimize or prevent the storm altogether, if he can. “You don’t even k-know me, we’ve barely seen one another before today.” She drops her head again. “I don’t matter,” she says, her voice barely audible.

“Wrong, little Omega,” he corrects her, resting his index finger under her chin and tipping her head so he can meet her eyes. “I’ve wanted you for a long time now, but I knew I could never have you, never have any woman in this century without consequences. Marcus knew that and promised to find a way to suppress my Alpha nature.” He laughs bitterly, before saying, “He lied, and instead offered you up as a sacrifice, as another way to control me. I’m just sorry you have to suffer for his sins.”

She silences him unexpectedly with a sweet kiss that quickly turns as warm and sultry as a summer night in the tropics. Their tongues slide together as he gathers her closer; his cock stirs and hardens, and he’s faintly surprised to realize that her heat hasn’t fully reasserted itself yet. This is just Molly kissing him, and he’s euphoric in the knowledge that she can stir such a reaction even when her pheromones aren’t dictating his responses. Just as he told her, this is more than mere biology. 

When the kiss ends, she pulls back enough to meet his gaze, and he sees the steely determination in her eyes that adds the slightest tang of burning metal to her scent. “Okay, then let’s do this. Marcus thinks he can just use people and discard them like broken tools? Let’s prove him wrong. I’ll do anything you need me to, Khan.” The sudden change in her attitude is unexpected but not out of character; like any Omega, once they understand how important they are to their Alpha, all doubts and apprehensions are swept aside. And in spite of her brief show of weakness when she thought this was only a matter of practicality for him, her true spirit shines through, making him want her all the more.

Or is ‘want’ the correct word? That silent pull he felt toward her since the moment he first saw her, the connection he’s felt between them all this time…no, it’s not mere biology and never has been. This woman is meant to be his, and he, hers. He’s never been one to believe in such things as soulmates, but as he stares at Molly’s deep brown eyes, shining with determination, he wonders if his disbelief was entirely misplaced.

A sudden shift in her scent alerts him even before the widening of her eyes, the red flush coloring her body, the sweat beading on her brow. She kisses him, hands curled into claws as she tries to draw him closer, and he effortlessly casts his thoughts aside.

His Omega needs him, as much as he needs her, and right now nothing else matters.

He presses her back so that she is lying on his bed, her head on the pillows, her breath coming in sharp pants as he lowers himself over her. She immediately grinds against him, seeking friction, relief that only he can give her as her temperature soars and her body’s needs threaten to overwhelm her, but he pins her hands above her head with one hand and takes her mouth in a brutal, claiming kiss. She whimpers against his mouth, then slides her tongue against his and moans as he rubs his chest over her sensitive nipples and grasps one hip before sliding his hand around to fondle her bum. He can feel every centimeter of her skin; if she is the flame, he is the moth, helpless to prevent his own immolation – and happy, more than happy, to allow the fires of her heat burn him.

She breathes his name out in a sigh as he moves his mouth to her neck, nipping lightly at the soft flesh, breathing in her heady scent and knowing that soon, very soon, she will smell like him and he will smell like her and no one will ever be able to come between them. But now is not the time to draw blood; regretfully he pulls his mouth away and trails hot kisses and nips of his teeth down to her clavicle, then to the valley between her breasts, ultimately taking each nipple into his mouth and savoring her sweet cries of pleasure as he suckles. She’s opened her legs as wide as she can and is bucking against him urgently, and he finally takes the opportunity to slip back into her body, his cock fairly quivering with anticipation as he presses home. Once he’s fully seated, his mouth back on her neck, he begins to move, to give her what they both want, and she cries out his name, eyes clenched shut as she wraps her legs around his waist.

That move drives him deeper inside her, and he grunts with pleasure and he increases his pace, feeling the glands at the base of his cock swelling up to form his Knot for their second joining. It will be faster for both of them this time; indeed, she’s already wailing out her orgasm as his thrusts become shallower, his thickening cock spreading her wide open until finally he punches his Knot deep inside her. Two, three, four more thrusts and he’s joining her in orgasm, gasping her name and then, as instinct fully overrides intellect, ripping at her throat, working the tender flesh between his teeth until suddenly her cries become shrill, her body taut, and oh! the sweetness of her blood filling his mouth.

The lifebond will be swift to form, he can tell by the way his own blood is virtually singing in his veins. He orgasms again and Molly joins him, clenching around his Knot and keening her pleasure, babbling out words of praise and coarse swears and chanting his name over and over as he releases her wrists and feels her hands settling on his shoulders. He laps at the wound on her neck, taking more of her blood into his body, mixing more of his saliva in hers to strengthen the bond. When they’ve recovered from this joining, he’ll be sure to use some of his own blood to heal the injury. It will still leave a ragged scar, of course; the Mark can be soothed but never erased even by Augmented blood as superior as his own.

As Molly stares adoringly up at him, the endorphins of the sex and the bonding keeping her on an extended high, Khan suddenly finds himself thinking of Marcus, and his lips curl in a savage, blood-speckled smile. “If the Admiral wants a war,” he growls as he rolls them so that Molly lies curled over his supine form, “then we’ll be sure to give him one.”

“Tell me everything, Khan,” Molly says, but her voice is a sleepy murmur, and he reaches up to soothe her tangled hair.

“Later,” he promises. “I’ll keep nothing back, Molly. You can ask me anything, and I will answer truthfully.”

Molly’s eyes have drooped shut; she merely murmurs sleepily in response, but he hears assent in her voice, smells it as she drifts into slumber. He strokes her hair softly, and as soon as the last of the smaller orgasms has faded away, he joins her in sleep.


	4. The Love of Power Is the Demon of Men

Three days after Marcus had them locked in together, Molly’s heat abates. Khan knows it would have lasted much longer but for two things: the swiftness and strength of their newly-formed Bond, and the new life growing within Molly’s womb. As he’d suspected it would, their extreme biological compatibility has resulted in an immediate pregnancy.

He has answered all her questions by then, all the ones she can think of, and offered up his own history, unflinchingly detailing everything he’s done both now and in his previous life in order to protect himself and his followers. “The world was in chaos; it needed a firm hand to guide it back to order. I did what I had to in order to draw Earth out of its second Dark Age, and I regret nothing except that I was unable to anticipate the betrayal that sent me and seventy-two of my closest followers – my dearest friends – into exile.”

She nods, although he can tell she isn’t entirely convinced that his path was the correct one; still, she didn’t live through those times, only knows of them through whatever histories she’s read or watched on vid. Even if she never completely agrees that his actions were the correct ones, he doesn’t need her to slavishly believe in his infallibility. No, he much prefers his mate to have a mind of her own, which Molly Hooper most emphatically does.

It doesn’t surprise him at all when she figures out the one thing he hasn’t shared with her. “I’m probably pregnant, aren’t I,” she says.

They are lying on his bed; he’s replaced the soiled bedding with fresh sheets and light blanket from his storage cupboard. They’re both naked beneath the covers, although Molly has taken to wearing one of his black Starfleet-issue undershirts whenever she gets up to eat or use the facilities. He finds the sight of her in that monotone garment quite fetching; the first time he saw her wearing it as she emerged from the ‘fresher, he was unable to keep from spinning her around and leaning her over the counter in his small kitchen space, rucking the clingy fabric up around her waist and pressing his cock inside her willing form.

“Yes,” he says in answer to her not-quite-a-question, banishing the memory of how warm and soft she felt as he pressed deep into her, how she’d gasped and moaned his name, fingers scrabbling at the countertop until he covered her hands with his and sucked a dark purple love bite into her throat opposite her still-healing Mark.

He will never lie to her; he’s already told her that, and explained how she’ll soon be able to tell from scent and other subtle triggers if someone isn’t being honest with her. Especially him; the tug of each other’s emotions has already begun, beguiling his senses even as it continues to confuse and unsettle her. “Then we need to take care of Marcus, find your crew and get as far from Earth as we can, as soon as possible,” Molly says, and his chest swells with pride at the determination in her voice and scent. “I won’t have my child growing up on a world that won’t be able to accept him for who he is – or will only condemn him for who his father is.”

In that moment, Khan knows without a single doubt that he loves this woman; saying not a word, her presses her back against the pillows, resting his body above hers as he kisses her. Although her heat has passed, his desire for her only continues to increase. As he pulls his mouth away from hers, he feels her own surging lust through their bond, watches as her eyes dilate, the pupils expanding until there are only thin rings of brown showing in her irises, smells the desire rising from her sex until all he can think about is once again sheathing himself in her body.

The lovemaking is tender and slow, a counterpart to the fury of their joining during her heat. He learns the contours of her body now that he isn’t entirely lost in the haze of an Alpha rut, finds out what makes her toes curl and her spine shiver, how he can best coax gasps and sweet whines from her soft, pink lips. She does the same for him, seeking out the places that make him moan and sweat, exploring the hard planes of his body, even riding him wantonly when he admits to never having allowed a woman to have him that way. He has always been the one in control, and to allow himself to take what could be construed as an inferior position…no. He absolutely refused.

Until now. Watching Molly as she moves above him, her breasts jiggling, head thrown back and neck arched so that he can clearly see the Mark he placed there; watching as his cock moves in and out of her, his hands on her hips…intoxicating. And when she leans forward, a dark smile on her lips, hair falling around her face and brushing against his chest – he groans and pulls her down for a deep kiss, tongues thrusting in time to the movements of their joined bodies until she comes with a hoarse cry, calling his name and panting into his neck. He continues moving inside her, coming minutes later, her name on his lips, spilling worshipfully into her ears even as his seed spills into her womb.

They fall asleep in one another’s arms; with the morning comes the unwelcome appearance of Admiral Marcus and four of his Section 31 goons, beaming into the bedroom with phaser rifles trained on the two of them. Molly cries out and shrinks against him, but Khan firmly pushes her away and rises to his feet, uncaring of his nudity. “Got that pesky Alpha nature back under control?” the Admiral asks with a smirk. “Told you I’d take care of you, Khan.”

His use of his prisoner’s true name comes as a shock; Khan’s eyes dart to the four men guarding him, his mind moving at lightning speed as he takes in the expressionless faces he sees, the unmoving bodies, the lack of anything resembling a human scent…He raises an eyebrow. “Androids, Admiral? How…interesting.”

Marcus waves his words away. “Only good for takin’ orders. Dumb as fuck but strong enough to take down an Alpha Augment if they have to.” His eyes harden. “So you’ve got yourself a bondmate now, I see. Got her pregnant too?”

Molly stiffens, but Khan beats her to the punch. “None of your concern, Admiral,” he says dismissively. “If she isn’t then she’ll be available for my use during her next heat; if she is, then you have another hostage against my continued cooperation. Have Doctor Hooper’s belongings transferred here; you know how important it is for a newly bonded pair to remain as close as possible for the first few months. And if you don’t know that, then I suggest you have the computer confirm it for you.”

Marcus says nothing, merely gives him a searching stare…but careful, even with four android guards, not to offer up anything that might be construed as a challenge. So he has been studying up on Alpha-Beta-Omega dynamics; interesting. Pointless, as he will not live long enough for such knowledge to be of any use to him, but interesting.

After a tense moment passes Marcus nods. With a gesture he dismisses the android guards, who vanish the same way they appeared, via the golden energy of a transporter beam. He speaks briefly into a Starfleet-issue communicator, and Khan hears the click of his door unbolting. Marcus deliberately turns his back on the two of them, pausing in the act of opening the door to say, “Doctor Hooper, you will of course keep your recent experiences to yourself, as well as Commander Harrison’s true identity.” The ‘or else’ is unspoken but heavily implied.  
“Doctor Hooper is my bonded mate, my Omega,” Khan snarls. “She will obey me. Molly!” he snaps, and she jumps a bit. He does not look at her, willing her to trust him, to feel his intent through their bond.

“Y-yes, Khan,” she says in a meek voice; if he were to risk a peek at her, he’d no doubt see that her eyes were lowered and possibly her lips trembling. She is putting on an act, but it is one that Marcus will believe.

“You will refer to me as Commander Harrison unless we are alone here in our quarters,” he orders her. “You will continue your duties as normal, at least until we confirm whether or not you’re pregnant. After that you will take on light duties at the Admiral’s discretion, am I clear? You will do nothing to endanger any child we conceive together.”

“Yes, Kh…Commander Harrison,” she replied obediently, her voice even softer, quivering a bit with fear. False emotions for the man who betrayed them to read in her eyes and body language; there is no scent of it and Khan smiles internally while keeping his mouth in a stern line.

When the time comes for Marcus to be taken down, the man will have no idea what hit him.


	5. The Mountains of Truth

It takes three weeks for Khan’s plans to come to fruition. Molly lives with him during those three weeks, her belongings transferred as he demanded. Marcus even assigns her to work with him, sneeringly commenting that every dog should have his bone close at hand. Molly flinches a bit at the contempt in her commanding officer’s tone, but says nothing. Khan considers the many, many inventive ways a man can be tortured yet kept alive for long periods of time.

He very much admires the way Molly soldiers on in spite of everything, and how well she acts the part of the perfect Omega, utterly subservient to her Alpha whenever they are in public areas or where they know they’re under surveillance. At those times she obeys Khan’s orders without hesitation, without question, managing to give the appearance of a woman utterly besotted by a man and yet simultaneously terrified of him. Her scent tells him the truth, of course; she has no fear of him whatsoever, but Marcus is convinced that Khan has broken her, overwhelmed her spirit by bonding with her against her will. 

Khan declares her the greatest actress never to tread the boards.

She giggles and nestles closer to him in their bed when he says it, and he’s heartened by the fact that she feels comfortable enough with him to do so. Their bond continues to deepen, and he knows her surface emotions and her scent as well as if they’ve known one another for years instead of mere weeks. 

They are being monitored, of course, and of course Khan has already found a way around it. As far as those watching and listening to the two of them know, they speak of nothing but their work day and their incessant need for one another. In fact, Khan has fabricated some truly titillating recordings for the Admiral’s viewing pleasure; when he and Molly actually make love, no one is allowed to observe them.

There is a particular storage cupboard he is particularly fond of, down in the bowels of the building where he slaves away on the admiral’s starship and weapons designs. He’s allowed a certain amount of freedom when in this supposedly impregnable Section 31 fortress of a building, and he and Molly make a great deal of use of that freedom. Not only to plot their escape from Marcus, but for certain other activities as well.

A smile blooms on Khan’s lips as he recalls the last visit the two of them made to the sub-basement where the storage cupboard is located. Even without the impetus of her heat, Molly is a passionate and eager lover, and Khan is more than happy to indulge her danger-loving side by shagging her during work hours, in a location where they could potentially be discovered.

She looks so lovely when he has her pressed up against the wall, the door opened a sliver to allow some light into the confined space, her hair loose and wild, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she tries - and mostly fails - to contain her cries of ecstasy as he thrusts into her. He can still feel her legs wrapped so tightly around his hips, the softness of her bum beneath his hands as he holds her up, the scent and taste of her surrounding him as he brings her to fulfillment and eventually joins her. He can contain his own roars of ecstasy, although it is difficult, and he waits impatiently for the day when they won’t have to confine themselves to clandestine meetings like this. When they and his crew can escape from under Marcus’ thumb and resume their interrupted journey to a better life far from Earth.

It’s because of Molly that his seventy-two brothers and sisters are eventually found. Marcus has hidden their cryotubes, not in a Starfleet warehouse or storage facility, or even on Section 31 property; instead, they have been placed in the vaults beneath a former bank, long abandoned. There is no surveillance, nothing more modern than electricity in the building itself. It is like hundreds of other buildings in London, forgotten and neglected, not mentioned in any Section or Starfleet databases. The perfect off-the-grid hiding place. It would take years to discover its location unless tortured out of Marcus, but luck continues to favor Khan and Molly.

“Marcus slipped up,” she breathlessly tells her mate when they return to their quarters that night. All the surveillance protocols have been double- and triple-checked at her insistence; there can be no chance of Marcus overhearing them tonight, and once she tells Khan her news he’s more than thankful for her insistence on extra caution. “He was instructing his yeoman to check on the ‘frozen assets’ and gave him the address. Khan, do you think - ”

“It’s them,” he says, no doubt in his mind. He kisses her, feeling her pride and desire for him through their bond, knowing she feels the same from him. He wants to take her right then and there, but now that he has the location of his fellow Augments, he needs to focus on freeing them.

He spends the rest of the night refining contingency plans he’d already set into motion, factoring in Molly and the hold Marcus thinks he has over them both. She willingly agrees to aid him, but only after extracting a promise that he will attempt to keep collateral damage to a minimum. “Not everyone in Starfleet is a monster like the admiral,” she says earnestly. “There are a lot of good people out there, Khan. If anyone knew what he’d been up to, he’d be drummed out of Starfleet, I know he would, and Section 31 would be disbanded.”

He agrees to her terms - how could he not? - but reserves judgement on the severity of the repercussions Marcus would face if exposed. Augments and the Eugenics War are a reviled part of Earth’s history, and there are many who feel that a war with the Klingons is as inevitable as the admiral does.

Two days later, he’s ready to set his plans in motion. “Are you certain you’re ready for this?” he asks Molly. “Once I begin, there’s no going back.”

They’re back in his quarters, with the program running that turns their conversation into something innocuous and, at Molly’s behest, includes her being extremely subservient to him. It’s exactly what Marcus expects from an Omega, and the cold indifference Khan feigns when the sex ends is also exactly what the man expects to see. That, too, was Molly’s suggestion, although Khan had already thought of it. The only reason he hadn’t suggested it himself was because he didn’t want to upset his Bondmate. But Molly will never stop surprising him, it seems, including tonight. He’s given her a way out, a chance to extricate herself from his plans, but she doesn’t hesitate a moment before insisting that she is, indeed, prepared to face any consequences should those plans fail. “I’ll do it, Khan, and short of using a Vulcan mind-meld or a Klingon Mind Sifter on me, there’s no way in hell Marcus will ever get the truth out of me.”

He can’t help it; her words stir a primal urge in him, the overwhelming need an Alpha has for his mate on the eve of battle. Especially since she’s going willingly into battle by his side. Her part of the plan is crucial, and he has nothing but confidence in her ability to carry it out. That utter certainty heightens his already aroused senses, until all he can see, smell, hear and touch is Molly. He growls her name, pressing her into the mattress, covering her body with his own. Even without her heat to stimulate it, he knows his Knot will rise when he makes love to her, and the thought drives him wild.

Molly’s equally ferocious desire for him is so clear through their bond, so deeply entrenched in her sweet Omega scent, that he can nearly taste it. “Want you,” Khan rasps, stripping away her clothing and his, wanting nothing to come between their bodies. “Want you now.”

“Then take me,” she replies, her eyes twin pools of darkness, into which he willingly would drown. “Take me, Khan,” she repeats, urging him closer, her hands on his body, touching him, stroking him into near madness. His heart is thundering in his chest as he crushes his mouth to hers, arrogantly demanding her kisses. She yields so sweetly, but there is nothing docile about her mouth beneath his. She submits only because she chooses to submit, and the love he feels for her is a raging inferno as he basks in that knowledge.

She holds him in the cradle of her thighs, sighing as he winds his fingers in her hair, tugging her head up to give him better access to her throat. He mouths the Mark he’s placed so precisely above her jugular, the permanent imprints of his teeth a pale white against the pink flush of her flesh, the strong beat of her pulse tempting him to bite down harder. She remains unflinching beneath him, and he knows that if he gave into the impulse to tear open the wound, she would submit without protest.

Reluctantly he forces his mouth away, concentrating instead on her collarbones, her shoulders, the soft mounds of her breasts. He plucks one nipple between two fingers and catches the other between his teeth, causing her to cry out and dig her fingernails into his scalp in the most pleasurable manner imaginable. He continues his relentless downward movement in spite of her attempts to drag him back up her body, knowing that she wants him to dig his teeth into her throat again just as much as he wants to do so - and knowing also that it would be best to wait until their child has had more time to develop and grow within her body before subjecting her to such exquisite pain again. “Another time, my love,” he growls, and she whines in frustration but finally lets go of his hair as his tongue flicks over the bottoms of her breasts, her still-flat belly, her hips and eventually her hot, wet sex.

She whimpers and moans, thrashing her head against the pillow as he lashes his tongue over her clit, between her dripping folds, down to the tight furl of her anus. He licks her slowly, sensually, until she is writhing and flailing, desperate to come but trying her best not to beg for it. He waits, easily controlling his own growing lust, until finally she raises herself on her elbows and stares wildly down at him. “Please Khan,” she gasps, and he smiles up at her from between her legs.

“Please what, Molly, my sweet little Omega?”

“Please, f-fuck me,” she pleads, stammering in her haste to get the words out, to tell him what she wants.

Instantly his mouth returns to her cunt, his hands cupping her ass, squeezing lightly as he flicks his tongue relentlessly over her clit, pulling it into his mouth and sucking hard. She squeals and bucks and cries out his name as her orgasm washes over her; only then does he sit up, pulling her up onto his lap and pushing his cock into her pulsing heat. 

He can feel it; his knot is growing, forming even without the hormonal stimulation of her heat, and exults in the knowledge that he is about to bring her to an unexpected height of pleasure. He drives himself deeper into her exquisitely tight pussy, and grins savagely as she gasps in realization. “Oh Khan,” she moans, “I thought...you said you could only knot me during a heat!”

“Apparently,” he purrs, leaning down to lick his Mark on her throat, “I don’t know everything about being an Alpha after all.” Then he shoves himself against her, punching his knot deep inside her, and she screams her pleasure for all to hear - if, of course, there was no dampening field hiding their true activities.

Instead, he’s the only one to take pleasure in her cries and moans, in the way her body moves so urgently against his, in the feel of her delicious cunt milking him of every last drop of cum. He topples forward as his orgasm burns through him, not bothering to silence the groans that tear through his throat as the outside world temporarily blanks out.

They remain locked together for only a few minutes before his knot shrinks down, but they stay wrapped in one another’s arms for the rest of the night. It’s possibly the last night they’ll ever share together and they both know it, but they are equal in their resolve: Marcus must be taken down, the other Augments freed, and Earth must become nothing but a memory for them all.


	6. Whoever Fights Monsters

Everything goes so smoothly during the following week that Khan fears at first that he’s being led into a trap. But no; if it was a trap, then he would surely have been stopped before going so far. He gains access to the ship he’s been building for Marcus and transfers his sleeping brethren into one of its many cargo holds without incident. The substitute cryochambers are placed in the seemingly-abandoned bank vaults with no one seeming to be the wiser, and Molly plays the part of a cowed Omega terrified of her mate but unable to leave him to a tee. She even ‘secretly’ begs Marcus to help her free herself, confessing that aside from the sex Khan is indifferent to her unless he thinks they’re being watched, but Marcus just laughs and tells her she’s too useful a tool to be allowed to leave.

They snatch what little time they can together during those hectic seven days, but it’s never enough. It never will be enough, not until they’re out from under Marcus’ thumb and free to live their lives as they choose. Molly convinces Khan that his view of Starfleet as an entity has been entirely distorted, perverted by what Marcus and Section 31 have forced on him, and he reluctantly concludes that she’s correct. The higher ups may be blind idiots, but they are indeed innocent of the crimes Marcus commits in their collective name, and so he will be sure to spare as many Starfleet lives as he can when they make their escape.

That day finally comes; his sleeping crew is waiting for him, the work on the _Vengeance_ is completed, and the time for the final part of the plan to be enacted has come. Khan gives Molly one final chance to extricate herself, since it will be clear to anyone that she was coerced by both himself and Marcus if she chooses to present herself as a victim, but she scorns that role, just as he’d secretly hoped she would. He kisses her passionately as they prepare the final move, then watches with no outward signs of anxiety as she hurries to find Marcus and play her final role as a Section 31 puppet.

Once the doors have whooshed shut behind her, Khan returns to his official work, creating new photon torpedos to be retrofitted into existing Constellation-class starships. The group of engineers normally assigned to work alongside him have been sent off on Marcus’ command, leaving Khan alone in the vast workspace where he designed the _Vengeance_ , Starfleet’s first - and if all goes to plan, last - Dreadnaught-class starship.

The ship he and Molly, with the assistance of a highly classified transwarp beaming device, are about to steal.

Minutes later the doors whoosh open and Molly stumbles in. He refrains from attacking the android that pushed her into the room, but only barely. She is trembling and smells of fear and excitement. “K-khan,” she stutteres as she comes to a stop more than two meters away from him. “The Admiral...he knows. I told him everything.” She drops her head into her hands as if crying, and he moves forward quickly, grabbing her by the arms.

“Molly, how could you betray me like this?” he snarls, whipping his head up to face the door as it opens again. The second android enters the room and stops next to its immobile counterpart, followed immediately by Marcus. He’s taken the extra precaution of bringing along a phaser rifle, which he holds casually in his arms as he regards the carefully-staged tableau before him. “Well, well, Khan, Lieutenant Hooper has been tellin’ me some very interesting stuff about you. Very interesting indeed.” 

“Has she now,” Khan replies, keeping his voice neutral as he releases his grip on Molly and pivots to face his nemesis.

Molly inches away from him, shoulders shaking, slowly backing toward Marcus as if for safety. The androids completely ignore her, as does the Admiral, their eyes and attention completely focused on Khan. He takes a single step forward, fists clenching at his side, and Marcus immediately aims the phaser rifle at him. He snaps out a command to the androids, who move to flank Khan. They hold no weapons of their own, but Khan knows it’s only because their combined strength more than matches his own.

He snarls as one of the androids reaches for him, feints as if about to grapple with it...and watches in satisfaction as the two automatons collapse to the floor, utterly lifeless.

Marcus wastes valuable seconds gaping at the scene before him; as he raises the phaser rifle and starts to depress the trigger, Molly springs into action. If Khan feared that she might quail at her part in all this, that fear is laid to rest as she uses the blade she’s been concealing in her uniform sleeve, pulling it out and jamming the end of it into Marcus’ wrist. He howls and drops the weapon even as he fires it, the blast going wild, easy for Khan’s superior reflexes to avoid as he drops to the floor, rolls, and then springs back to his feet.

Marcus attempts to grab Molly, to wrench the blade from her grasp, but she is a trained Starfleet officer, and he is many years from the field; she easily avoids his grasp, kicking one leg out from under him while simultaneously stabbing him high in the abdomen.

Marcus gapes up at her, his life’s blood pooling beneath his body, one hand groping for the handle of the blade protruding from his stomach. “You...you’re just an Omega…” he rasps disbelievingly even as she pulls out the knife she just plunged into his body. 

She gives him a dark smile and says, “Your mistake was in thinking that Omega means weak.” She leans closer, so that her breath mingles with the last ones he will ever take. “You were wrong.”

She and Khan watch with equal dispassion as their enemy dies, then spring into action. Khan rattles off a series of commands that bring the androids back to life by reversing the dampening field he had set into place. There is no time to properly reprogram them, but he has infiltrated their coding so that they will remain passive while he and Molly finish what they need to do, then at a set point in time, report the Admiral’s death - and, more importantly, transfer the downloaded files Khan has placed in their memory cores to Starfleet Command, the Federation Council, and the Klingon High Command.

The Admiral’s plans for a war must be foiled, and any co-conspirators flushed out. It is the least Khan owes Molly, to protect her beloved Federation even as they flee it forever.

As he races to program the trans-warp beaming device, he spares a moment to drink in the sight of her, working calmly and quietly next to him. The woman Marcus thought to use as a tool, a weapon against his prisoner, has proven to be his undoing, and it is an irony Khan greatly enjoys. But not as much as he enjoys the small smile his mate gives him as he finishes programming in the coordinates for their destination, the bridge of the _Vengeance_.

He pulls her to his side and plants a passionate, promising kiss on her lips before the energy of the transporter beams carries them away to a future he is determined to be as bright as the love he feels for her - and she for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all she wrote, folks. I thank you all for your comments and for sticking around to read my stuff even if I take forever to update.


End file.
